He had not enjoyed it for a week, before the water with which
he performed his daily ablutions was insinuated by a cunning contrivance
through the ceiling, and dismissed afterwards, as cleverly, through the
floor. Hot water came through the wall at any hour of the day, and a
constant artificial ventilation was maintained around his bed by night
and day. There was no end to the artifices which the chamber exhibited.
Michael, although he lived at a considerable distance from the bank, was
always the first at his post, after Planner himself. He arrived
unusually early on the day fixed for his visit to the Continent. Planner
and he sat for an hour together, and in the course of their
conversation, words to the following effect escaped them:--

"You will be careful and attentive, Planner. Let me hear from you by
every post. Do not spare ink and paper."

"Trust me. I shall not forget it. But don't you miss the opportunity,
Allcraft, of doing something with those mines. Your father wouldn't
touch them--but he repented it. I tell you, Michael, if we bought them,
and worked them ourselves, we might coin money! I'd go abroad and see
the shafts sunk. I could save a fortune in merely setting them to
rights."

"It is rather strange, Planner, that Brammel is so long absent. He
should come home, and settle down to work. It isn't well to be away. It
hasn't a fair appearance to the world. You saw his father yesterday.
What said he?"

"Oh, that young Brammel had a good many things to arrange in Oxford and
in the neighbourhood, and would soon be back now. But never mind him,
Allcraft. Between ourselves, he is better where he is; he is a horrible
ass."

"Hush. So he is, Planner, but he must not run wild. We must keep him at
home. He has been a rackety one, and I fear he is not much better now. I
question whether I should have received him here, if I had known as much
of him at first as I have heard lately. But his father deceived me."

"Queer old man that, Michael! How he takes the boy's part always, and
how frightened he seems lest you should think too badly of him. Young
Brammel will have every farthing of the old man's money at his death. A
pretty sum, too. A hundred thousand pounds, isn't it?"

"Well, Planner, let me know when he returns. That was a curious report
about his marriage. Can it be true?"

"His father denies it, but you mustn't trust the old sinner when he
talks about his son. He'll lie through thick and thin for